


A legacy of tell-me-to

by risinggreatness



Series: Circle 'round the sun [13]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 08:20:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2341505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risinggreatness/pseuds/risinggreatness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Luke and Leia are born</p>
            </blockquote>





	A legacy of tell-me-to

“Someone should be in there with her,” he thinks wearily.

Ben stands in the empty corridor for hours; Padmé’s screams prevents meditation. Anything to keep him from the present. He suspects she does not want him there anyway. She is furious with him; furious with the absent presence; furious with herself.

He promises her a few short days; then the children must go. She fought hardest they not be separated ( _let them at least have each other_ ).

It is the worst possible solution. She may have one or the other; not both. Under no circumstances can they be together. As a pair, they would be too easy to find. If he is certain of one thing, it is his friend’s children are strong with the Force. 

Vader had no qualms cutting down padawans and younglings. ( _Two blades on his belt._ ) Infants would be nothing.

Conscience twinges uncomfortably.   The man he used to be wouldn’t have been like this: cold and inflexible. Padmé, occasionally, entertains that he lives on – he’s the one she appeals to. Appeals that fall on ( _unwillingly_ ) deaf ears.

Ben exhales. Time to encourage false hope.

One of the midwife droids shoos him, but when Padmé sees him, something resembling relief floods her face. Her diverted attention causes the droid to chide her, reminding her she’s “almost there.”

Her fists bunch the sheets at her sides and she lets out another tremendous yell. It is all natural, he knows, but he cannot bear to see her in pain; cannot bear to extend a hand in comfort. So much for his presence in the room.

 _Almost there_ – one of the bassinets already has an occupant. Ben steps towards it, deliberately avoiding the main action.

 _He_ would have laughed, called it ‘typical,’ and run head-first into the melee.

The child is agitated by his mother’s labor. But as Ben stands over him, he calms and looks at him with a detached curiosity. It is a blissful, unaware state Ben wishes he could muster. This boy is a flesh and blood reminder: Obi-Wan Kenobi once had a brother.

Padmé’s cries are joined by her daughter’s. She slumps back in the bed, letting out a huge gasp. One of the droids places the hastily cleaned girl in her arms. Her world becomes her daughter, but not for long.

“Luke.” Her free arm extends towards Ben, beckoning he bring her son.

The boy squirms and Ben is surprised by how little he weighs. Shouldn’t the child be so much heavier?

He is also struck by how tired Padmé looks. ( _He’s not one to talk._ ) Months confined to a ship, near a day in labor; exhaustion takes its toll. Her face is red, there is drying sweat on her brow, and dark circles under her eyes.

But as he hands her the boy, she smiles so broadly it reaches her eyes. It is the happiest he has ever seen her. She cradles them awkwardly at her chest. ( _She needs an extra pair of arms._ )

“Luke, I want you to meet your sister, Leia. Leia, this is Luke.” Her voice wavers, but she does not cry.

She kept their names close, as if saying them aloud would take the children from her all the sooner. He did not push; he did not want to hear. Now there are two Skywalkers in the galaxy.

She continues, “I want you to look out for each other. That’s an order, from your mother.”

It isn’t spitefully directed at Ben. It a simple a fact: should they meet again, they’ll need to protect each other.

Ben moves for the door; this is not his place.

“Wait!” Then, ever softer, “Please stay.”

He senses her uncertainty as much as his own. Her time with her children is short; soon they will be others’. Why should he invade it?

He concedes. “An hour. No longer.”

He might convince himself it is like old times.

**Author's Note:**

> See author bio for discussion on this 'verse.


End file.
